At the Platform
by Dr.Coconut
Summary: 1st September, 2017. Draco Malfoy's musings on that particular autumn morning.


I feel resentment boiling inside me, as I look at that happy group across the station at King's Cross. People are staring at them, but they don't seem to care at all. Look at them...laughing, talking. The Potters and the Weasleys, all standing in one corner, waving books and robes about, shouting, cheering, exclaiming. The very picture of a happy family. And completely oblivious, or so it seems, to the curious looks directed at them from every nook and cranny.

Would they be so carefree, I wonder, if the stares were of a different kind? Hostile, jeering, loathing, judging? I feel those stares around me, directed to me, penetrating my soul, leaving me bare and exposed. I glance to my left and see Astoria fidgeting uncomfortably with her dress. I hold my chin up higher and put my arm around my son's bony shoulders. He looks up at me, and I can see fear in his eyes.

My heart melts, but my resentment burns on. As long as the Weasley clan is at Hogwarts, they will have a crowd of admirers hovering around them. How could they not? They belong to the most famous family in the wizarding world. Their parents are heroes, they are legends.

And my son? What will happen to him? Oh, I know. People will hate him, they will shun him. He will forever be known as the Malfoy boy, the son of a Death Eater. He will be treated with hostility throughout his life. Why? Because of me. I made choices at 17, without thinking about anyone, no, without thinking at all. And over the past nineteen years, I've wished more than ever that I could go back and stop myself. But now, as I look at my small family, I'm consumed with rage, feeling small and helpless, because instead of providing for them and protecting them, I can only add to their misery.

I see Ron Weasley looking in our direction. He bends down and talks to his daughter, a curly haired, red headed, blue eyed thing. She turns to look at us too, and even from a distance, I can see the puzzlement in her eyes. But then, it is replaced by something else- the need to make her father proud. I should know, I'm quite familiar with that expression.

But not anymore. Now, as I see my father's cruel face, with its hard silver eyes and long blonde hair, it fills me with contempt and hatred.

I look down at my son, and a quiver of fear passes through me. I don't ever, ever want him to think of me like that.

I kneel down, so that I'm level with him. He looks at me, and opens his mouth. "Dad, I-"

I cut him off. "That's OK." I smile, truly smile. I'm not my father. Scorpius is not his father. "Scorp, when you get to the Sorting, I want you to forget everything Grandfather told you. It doesn't matter. I don't care if you're in Slytherin or Hufflepuff, all I care about is that you don't make the same mistakes I did. Be your own person, Scorp. Ignore the others. Don't let Grandfather bring you down.

"I love you, Mum loves you. You can be different, don't try to be me or my father, OK? I promise that I will always love you no matter what. Even if you end up liking Rose Weasley."

A blush stains his cheeks. "I-what-no-gross!" I grin at him, and he finally cools down. He smiles a little, and I see relief in his eyes. "Thanks Dad," he says, and then he gives me a fleeting hug. He embraces Astoria, and then he lugs his trunk across the platform to the train. I'm about to help him with it, when I see a young man with bright blue hair hurrying towards him and levitating the trunk. Scorpius thanks him, and silently, I do too, for now, I can feel the hostile looks diminishing somewhat. Teddy Lupin helping a Malfoy. He must have a big heart. I nod at him, silently showing my gratitude and he nods back.

Astoria comes up to me and puts her hand on my shoulder. "Look, there he is!" she says, pointing towards one of the windows close to us. I tilt my head slightly, and sure enough, I see the gleam of his blonde hair, next to a sea of red heads. I stand up straighter. Oh help, he's with the Weasleys. But it seems to be going fine. He's actually talking to a few of them. Hmm. Maybe I'll have to keep my promise about Rose Weasley after all.

I step back as the train starts moving slowly, tightening my grip around Astoria's shoulders. I glance over in Potter's direction, and see that he's looking at me too. We both stare for a few seconds, and then we nod. With a ghost of a smile on my face, I look back at the train, now speeding past and wave madly as I see Scorpius' face among the hundreds of Hogwarts student. I stand there for a few seconds after the train has gone, and look down at my wife. She smiles back at me. The Weasleys and the Potters move past, talking excitedly. Ron doesn't look at me, but Hermione nods and Potter himself gives me a half smile. I nod back and then move out myself.

All is well.


End file.
